For the Love of a Child
by parsleytheherblion
Summary: Tony finds himself growing attached to the team's only witness to a horrific murder. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter I

_**Chapter I**_

--

The sun had barely risen when a car careened into the NCIS building parking lot. Luckily the parking lot was virtually empty, only parked cars were present, out of the way of the maniac driver. The car finally came to an ungraceful stop, back wheels still spinning as they tried to find some purchase, in the parking spot of one Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

The car door slammed as said Special Agent stalked into the building in search of his much needed second cup of coffee of the day. Woe to anyone who slowed him in his quest.

The elevator doors slid open heralding his arrival in the squad room. As he entered the office area his eyes, as usual, flickered over the entire room, stacking out the place, before coming to rest on his small domain; some habits were just never broken.

He was surprised to find DiNozzo at his desk, asleep. His steps slowed as he studied his Senior Field Agent. Tony's legs were stretched out on his desk, crossed at the ankles; his head was leaning heavily against his television stand, his jacket, placed haphazardly over his chest and arms, was slowly slipping to the ground. He was still in yesterdays, now very rumpled, casual clothes.

Gibbs felt his frustration build. DiNozzo was having car problems and had promised he had a lift home last night. According to him there had been no reason for Gibbs to go out of his way to drive him home like he'd driven him to work the previous morning. In reality it hadn't been all that 'out of his way'. Both he and Tony lived relatively close to the NCIS headquarters and, not that he would say so in any direct way, but he didn't mind spending time with the man. In fact, he rather liked it.

He was about to give the younger man a rude awakening when he saw the Starbucks cup sitting innocently next to DiNozzo's computer. Frowning suspiciously, he picked it up - still mostly warm. He popped the lid. Black, no cream. He sniffed it warily before taking a small sip and he smiled almost against his will.

He looked at his watch. 0605.

The kid wasn't off the hook but he could sleep for another half hour.

He sat down at his own desk, booting up his computer, finding the paperwork he wanted to get out of the way before Kate and McGee arrived. He didn't really expect them for at least another hour, maybe more. The early morning was always the best time to sort out all the extra admin stuff he had to do as Team Leader. No need for it to for it to take up any more time than necessary and he'd already put it off for as long as possible and then a bit longer.

He loved being a Team Leader, really, he did, especially to the team he had now. But it was times like these, when he was squinting at yet another requisition form and blank performance reviews were hiding his desk he wished he'd picked a job that had nothing to do with paperwork: if such a job existed, of course.

Sighing he dropped some form or other on his desk and brushed his hands through his hair.

"Paperwork," he growled quietly.

He looked up past his still sleeping agent and out through the window. It was still dark in that cold autumn, misty morning way, where everything had a dull bluish tint except for the horizon which was illuminated in growing shades of pinks, reds and oranges. The colours were slowly bringing the world out of the shadows, trailing over the roofs and trees that could be seen from their office.

He was snapped away from his reverie as Tony suddenly straightened up, his feet falling to the floor with an audible thud. Gibbs was on his feet and round his desk before he even realised he'd moved.

Tony's head swivelled around frantically only stopping when Gibbs was in his sight. He looked dazed before his eyes cleared and he coughed, clearing his throat.

"Uh, hey Boss?" He smiled lopsidedly. "What're you doin' in my..." He looked around a bit more, "this isn't my room..." He finished slowly.

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at him, lessening his glare only slightly. "No, it's not."

Tony blinked a few times before nodding.

"Well, okay then."

He twirled around in his chair picking up a few folders that were scattered around the place. Gibbs knew they were cold case files. Tony liked to go through as many as possible in the quiet times between cases. Not that there were many of those quiet times.

He let the silence hang for a moment, watching Tony act busy-like and glancing back at him under his eyelashes as if trying to place his mood. If Gibbs hadn't been looking for it he wouldn't have noticed the way the folders shook in Tony's hands as he shuffled them about his workspace.

"Nightmare?" His voice was unusually soft; there was hardly anyone around this early, he could afford to be a little less gruff than normal.

Tony's head shot up. Gibbs saw a flash of fear in his eyes before he made himself relax, bringing up his defences – he had always found it interesting that Tony built his walls by physically relaxing. His gaze returned to his desk, puttering about with his files, half-shrugging, not talking.

He let it slide. If Tony wanted to talk to him, he would talk to him sooner or later. Instead, he decided to pursue why exactly one of his agents had stayed at work all night. He liked dedication more than the next guy but he liked it in people who could stay awake and actually do their job.

Gibbs continued to make his way over to Tony's desk. He pressed down on both hands, leaning over the younger man menacingly. There weren't many times he had the height advantage. He liked to use it when he could.

"I thought you had a lift home last night." He started quietly. He was very much aware that Tony found that much more intimidating than if he were to raise his voice.

Tony looked up at him blankly before realising his boss was ever so slightly mad. Bringing his hands up in a defensive gesture he began to explain but it came out more as stutters than anything else. "Ah, I, ah, I," he pointed at the folders on his desk, "work to do. Abby didn't mind."

He stifled a yawn, not quite awake yet.

Gibbs' frown deepened. "So not only did you not go home but you gave Abby the chance to stay at work all night, also." He wondered sometimes how either of these people were still alive with the care they took of themselves.

Tony grimaced. "Actually I think she was planning on coming back here after dropping me off. She was all bouncy happy when I told her not to worry, said something 'bout not wasting time. I think she had an experiment going." He looked down and noticed the cup of coffee was gone and his face morphed into that too serious/focused expression that he used when he was seriously trying to hide a smile, more than likely thankful he was talking to a caffeinated Gibbs.

"Did she sleep at all?"

Tony nodded fervently. "Yeah," He pointed at the floor next to his desk, "Wouldn't use her futon. Don't ask, don't know why. She got a full six hours, I swear." It had probably been a fight but one it looked like he'd won.

Gibbs nodded, partially satisfied. However, while Tony was fantastic at looking after Abby it was more than obvious that he hadn't looked after himself; he looked like crap, something which was becoming more and more frequent. Gibbs did not like that, at all.

"Did _you_ get more than an hour's sleep?"

Tony hesitated before answering, "Yes?"

Gibb's eyes narrowed and his hand moved quickly, cuffing Tony on the back of the head. He watched as an indignant yelp rose to the younger man's lips before he just sat back sighing pathetically.

He muttered a quiet, "Uh huh," before returning back to his desk with a small amused smile.

Hopefully it would be a slow day and he could send Tony down to Abby's lab for an hour or so if he started to flag. He was feeling rather generous today.

He sat down again picking up another form and sighed. His relatively good mood was soured. He hated paperwork.

Tony began to rabbit on about something or other, a movie, he thought, and however much it pained him to do so – because the combination of paperwork and Tony's movie-yakking was something close to one of the inner circles of hell – he let him. As he talked, Tony eased from a defensive relaxation to a natural one.

It still got on his last nerve, though.

"Boss?"

"What, DiNozzo?" He asked without raising his head, his frustration evident. He knew he shouldn't take his irritation out on the younger man but Tony constantly made himself an easy target, always talking long after everyone else would have shut up. It would just figure that was what he really liked about the man as well: he wasn't _scared_ to keep talking long after everyone else would have shut up.

"You doin' paperwork?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo," he answered in his growly 'Obviously, now shut the hell up' voice.

"Want some help?"

Gibbs finally raised his head to look at Tony with his wide 'innocent' eyes that sparkled lightly and the small smile that quirked across his lips, his head lolling gently to his left.

He rolled his eyes. "Get over here."

Tony pulled his chair over as Gibbs pushed his stapler, tape, rolodex and phone out of the way and halved the pile of requisition forms, dumping them in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, Kate and Tim's performance reviews in hand, until he decided he didn't want to take the chance. While Tony had, in his own way, taken the Probie under his wing there was still a high chance he would get back something with 'needs to work on his jokes but 8/10 for effort' and 'doesn't pick on Kate enough'. Kate's would definitely be filled with 'hot, but needs to loosen up' or 'has learned the art of revenge disturbingly well – a solid 10'. He thought it better to not even tempt Tony with it. That might be too much.

They settled down quickly with Tony breaking the silence with a question every now and then or starting asinine conversations that had them both smirking or laughing quietly. It was something that happened every so often, not so much since the team had expanded with first Kate then McGee, more so when it had just been Tony and him (and Blackadder, but then...). Tony liked to help out the admin sometimes, at first Gibbs had fought against it – seeing it as his responsibility – but Tony had been insistent and, like in many areas, he had worn him down till he relented. Now even his token protests had disappeared.

During these quiet times between them where the companionship was incredibly easy he would find himself missing, slightly, when it was just them; a two-man team. They worked well together; they had since they'd met in Baltimore and they still did.

Sometimes he wondered what it would be like if he had never hired Kate and had fought off the Director on the need for more people on his team. But, then, he liked the way his team was now. He wouldn't change it for the world, not that he would ever tell them that. They knew it anyway, he was sure.

Tony broke into his thoughts with some inane observation and he chuckled, happy for the moment.

--

At 0730 on the dot the elevator doors slid open and both Kate and McGee rushed into the squad room. Technically they weren't late but Gibbs liked for his team to start early. They stopped short at the sight of both Gibbs and Tony sitting at the former's desk laughing as they swapped files around. Tony muttered something and Gibbs opened one of his drawers which he scrounged through before picking up a pen and handing it to Tony who nodded his thanks.

Kate and Tim shared a puzzled glance. This was an unusual happenstance, for them anyway.

Tony spun his chair round to face them with a smile. "Hey, guys! I was wonderin' if you were ever gonna get in." He twisted his head towards Gibbs. "Did you think they were ever gonna get in?"

"Nope."

Gibbs kept his head down, finishing the requisition form for more requisition forms; paperwork was a strange, idiotic and not quite logical thing. He was certain this was one issue the rest of the world could actually agree on with him.

"Should I give them the rest of the paperwork?"

Gibbs looked at the now tiny not-even-worthy-of-the-name-pile of forms and whatnot. It would take them about fifteen minute's tops to finish it. Compared to the hour they had taken to make such a dent it was nothing. But he really needed a break now and he was sure Tony did too.

"Sure."

He dropped his pen on the finished form, waved a hand in invitation and stretched through a yawn. He watched as Tony pushed his chair towards his desk with one hand and with the other picked up the left over forms placing half on Tim's desk and the other half on Kate's. They wisely kept their mouths shut and just sat down to finish off the last of the paperwork, sharing one more puzzled glance over their desks.

"Tony." His agent looked up from pushing his chair back behind his desk, questioningly. "Coffee."

Tony smiled again. "Sure thing, Boss."

He was proving to Gibbs, once again, that Anthony DiNozzo was a strange being; who on Earth was in a good mood after filling in forms for one minute let alone close to ninety?

The strange being grabbed his jacket from his desk, slinging it over his shoulder, also picking up his piece and badge - never go anywhere without them. He swung round walking to the elevator backwards. "While I'm at it, should I get Abby a Caf-Pow!?"

Gibbs thought about it seriously for a moment. The problem with Abby and Caf-Pow! was that too much and she became a jittery caffeinated ball of energy, too little and that was when _her_ second B came into play; it was really quite terrifying. A meticulous balance was needed and even after working with her so long he could still get it wrong.

"We should wait a couple of hours." He nodded, satisfied with his decision.

Tony was about to reply but Gibbs' phone rang. He raised a hand telling him to not leave just yet just in case it was a case.

He picked it up, answering with the usual brusque, "Gibbs." It was as polite as he was ever going to be. As the person on the other end spoke his heart sank. No hope of coffee in the near future.

"Right, we'll be there soon." He slammed the phone down and quickly picked up everything he needed, barking out a redundant, "Gear up!" Kate and Tim were already doing so and Tony was waiting by the elevator.

"A Staff Sergeant's wife was tortured and murdered in Annandale, Virginia. He's deployed in Iraq. The only witness was their six year old daughter." He explained as they entered the elevator.

He heard Kate's gasp behind him and McGee's quietly uttered, "God..." Next to him he could feel Tony practically brimming with a fury that matched his own.

He hated these kinds of cases.

As the elevator doors slid shut it suddenly hit Gibbs what today was, understanding of what Tony's nightmare was most probably about. He felt like even more of a bastard than usual when his first thought was maybe this could be used to form some trust between them and the victim's daughter.

He would only do it if he had too.

He had never pretended to be a nice guy.

--

"Damn."

He surveyed the blood soaked bed. Jamelia Mona Laney lay broken upon what were once blue and white polka dot sheets. Her pants lay in a pile on the floor at the bottom of the bed, her t-shirt ripped to shreds next to it. Coagulating blood still dripped onto them from the bed sheets. What used to be creamy unblemished skin was now a painting of cuts and bruises and burns and so much more. One leg was twisted almost back to front. An arm was bent in the wrong direction at the elbow. The fingers of both hands were obviously broken. Her head, haloed by red matted hair, rolled unnaturally to the right. Only her face remained untouched and yet it showed the pain and horror of every injury

There had been nothing peaceful about her death.

Beside him Dr. Mallard paused, taking in the horror that one person could inflict on another.

"I need a TOD, Duck." Gibbs whispered hoarsely. It was more than likely he was going to be seeing this scene in his dreams when he next slept.

Ducky gave his head a little shake. He didn't reply with his usual 'Patience, Jethro'. Humour, of any sort, did not belong in this room. He just got to work.

Gibbs looked over to his team in the doorway, shocked was one word that could be used to describe them, angry was another, sick could also be used. McGee was turning greener by the second; he was only a probie after all, though Kate looked to be not far behind. He took pity on them.

"Kate, talk to the girl. McGee, interview the neighbours." They sent him grateful nods and hurried away as fast as possible. He still felt the need to tell Tony, "You Sketch, I'll shoot," even though his senior field agent was already passing him the camera and getting his pad out of his bag with a grim but determined face.

"Whoever finishes first takes measurements." Tony finished for him quietly.

Gibbs answered him with a tight smile.

--

"I don't know how they do it," whispered Kate.

Tim looked her, still nauseous but pretty sure he wasn't going to lose his breakfast. "Practice?"

They were standing in the front doorway, taking a breather, before splitting up for their assigned tasks.

Kate looked vaguely disgusted. "I thought I'd seen some bad things but obviously not. But getting used to that! It's like turning to stone."

Tim shook his head. She hadn't been watching them at all; she'd misunderstood their need to get on with the job. "It's not like that." He started and she turned to him curiously. "Didn't you see them? They were just as affected as we were, they just hid it better. That's what I meant by practice. They've learnt to shove their emotions aside and deal with them later."

She stared at him, barely hiding her shock. "Wow, McGee, that's really insightful..."

Shrugging, he smiled at the sort-of praise. "I have my moments."

Kate shook her head distractedly and mumbled to herself, "Why didn't _I_ see that. I'm meant to be the profiler."

His smile fell. One day he was going to get a real compliment. "I'm just, I'm just going to talk to the neighbours." He turned and made his way towards the growing gaggle of onlookers.

Kate watched him walk away for a few moments and then giving herself a mental kick up the backside approached the ambulance, its back doors open wide. Emma Laney was sitting on the edge of the ambulance floor with her legs dangling over the edge and smothered in a massive bright red blanket. It did nothing to stop her shaking. Next to her sat a cooling mug of tea and an unpeeled, bruised banana.

An EMT caught her elbow as she inched closer to the silent six year old. He looked worried. She expected him to bar her from speaking to the girl but he instead he asked, "Can you try to get her to eat something? We might have to take her to the hospital if she doesn't."

She nodded. "I'll do my best."

Slowly she crouched down in front of the little girl, catching her attention and smiling. Emma just stared at her. Her long auburn hair hung limp over her eyes, hiding the sharp green beneath. She was dry-eyed, just staring.

"Hi there, Emma, I'm Kate." She laid her hand on the girl's leg squeezing it in some reassurance. She didn't utter a word. "Sweetie, I know this is hard, but I need you to say something." Nothing. "Okay, will you eat something, then?" She picked up the banana, peeling it, it wasn't so bruised underneath. Breaking a small bit off the top she held it up in easy reach of her mouth. "Come on, Sweetie, I'm sure you don't want to go to hospital."

Emma did nothing.

The banana piece smushed a little in Kate's grip.

"Alright, okay." She put down the banana, her other hand resting on the girls head smoothing her hair in a soothing gesture, "It's all right. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Emma stared at her silently.

"Okay," Kate whispered sadly as she walked back to the house.

She saw Gibbs and Tony come out through the front door. They had done what they needed to do quickly so Ducky could get on with his part of the job. Though she wasn't fooling herself, there was still a lot to do. They could just finish it without the body present. She shuddered as Palmer came out of the house pushing the gurney holding the body bag. Her stomach churned and for one horrifying second she thought she really was going to throw up but luckily she settled. She tried to tell herself this wasn't the worst crime scene she had seen in her life but adding the obvious trauma suffered by the victims six year old daughter perhaps it actually was.

Both of her colleagues had moved to the side to let the gurney pass, tracking it to the truck with similarly grim expressions. McGee was right; they were just as affected as them. How could she miss that? She needed to watch them more closely, needed to understand them.

Gibbs nodded to her and McGee as they made it to the porch at the same time.

"None of them heard or saw anything, Boss." He shrugged in apology, for once remembering not to say it out loud.

"How does no one hear someone being slowly tortured and killed?" Tony asked softly, solemn. Kate found it almost unbearable. Tony was never so serious.

"It's what they're saying," McGee added helplessly.

"Fine." Gibbs stated already giving the neighbours up for useless idiots. "Kate?"

Kate sighed. "Emma Laney; She's obviously traumatised, Gibbs, shocky. She's probably not going to be speaking for a while. She won't eat anything and the EMT's say if she doesn't they'll have to take her to the hospital."

Gibbs dragged a hand through his hair in frustration and barely concealed anger. He stared up at the sky as if the growing clouds would guide him in his next step.

"Tony?" he said softly.

The ex-cop practically snapped to attention. "Yeah, Boss?"

"See what you can do." He tilted his head towards the ambulance.

Tony blinked at him for a few moments before jerking in realisation and stuttered his protests. "No, no, I, no! Me and kids," He meshed his hands together, entwining his fingers, shaking his head, a look of panic settling on his face. "I'll make her cry!" He finished plaintively.

In a rare show of patience Gibbs let him complain before telling him lightly, "You'll do fine." He followed up with a light glare, wouldn't do to show too much kindness now.

"Or, of course, I could do fine." Tony scowled, replying with sarcasm, but his shoulders slumped in resignation. He looked past where Gibbs stood, past the open front door and he took in a sudden breathe as he had an idea. Mumbling, "Just a second," he rushed back into the house.

Kate leaned around Gibbs to see where he was going and she watched him pop in and out of the living room returning to them with something extra. In his hand was a small, bright orange and red stuffed giraffe.

"I saw it when we came in," he explained. At the dubious looks sent his way by both Kate and McGee he added, "It can't hurt," with a tentative shrug.

"No, it can't." Gibbs reassured while fighting the urge to head-slap his other two agents. "Now, go."

"On it, Boss." The words were nowhere near as enthusiastic as they usually were.

Kate turned her back to his retreating form, rounding on Gibbs. "Are you sure he's the right person for this? I mean, he is Tony. He's right, he and kids..."

She was cut off by Gibbs' firm, "Don't worry."

"But..."

Gibbs' shut her up with a glare. "They will _both_ be fine."

He slipped his sight from her to the ambulance where Tony had crouched down in front of the young girl, talking softly. A small smile graced his face, untempered by the crime scene behind him.

--


	2. Chapter II

_**Chapter II**_

--

Emma had the height advantage as he crouched down in front of her. He looked up, taking in her pale features, her bright eyes. She wouldn't cry, Tony knew it immediately, not yet. She looked fragile, like glass finely cracked; prod too hard and she would break into a million jagged pieces, but Tony could see the steely strength that simmered beneath the surface.

Memories of scene just like this threatened to smother him, the ambulance, the worried Paramedics, the garish blanket, the silence and a whole life ahead of him without his...

There were no tears then either.

In front of him bruises marred Emma's face. He mentally shook himself hard and they were gone.

This was a child who waited until the cold dark of night suffocated her into showing her emotions.

No six year-old should be so strong.

Tony already felt a certain affinity for her.

And, yet, he had no idea what to say. He almost caught himself giving out an enthusiastic 'Hi!' followed by a pathetic hand wave because smothering the kid in his nervous energy was definitely the way to go. Oh yes, act happy and the kid will cotton on. Did that ever work? Except for in the movies of which, for once, his knowledge really didn't help.

The quiet grew awkward and he finally settled for a much more sedate, "Hey," and wanted to kick himself, but he'd already started so he supposed he had to continue. "I'm with NCIS, Navy cops basically. Because your dad's a Navy Marine we'll be investigating... yeah." He bit his lip. That would have been a great track to go down right now.

"You've been a very brave girl." Her eyes seem to grow colder and he almost felt like laughing, perhaps with a side of crying. Why would he say that to a girl who just spent all night listening to her mother being murdered? She wouldn't be feeling very brave at the moment. She would be feeling cowardly, angry, guilt-

_Huh._

She would be feeling like he had, like he still did some days.

It was time for a different tactic. Something slightly different was needed than what was used all those years ago but he could change it. He could improvise. He was good at improvising.

_This could work._ He just had to repeat that to himself for a while.

The blanket covering her had slipped from her shoulder, showing a bare arm and the beginnings of a yellow summer dress, flower stitching peaked out from under the red polyester wool. He reached up with both arms, wrapping her own around the stuffed giraffe, and pulled it back into place, settling it more securely around her neck and that of the cuddly toy's, taking the time to brush her hair gently behind her ears. The giraffes head rested against her chin and she moved her head, pushing the stuffed toy to the side slightly into a more comfortable position, but did not let go.

Baby steps.

"See, now we can see your pretty eyes; beautiful." He smiled widely not expecting an answer. He was planning on doing all the talking and felt more relaxed for knowing that. He patted the giraffe on the head before fleetingly resting his hand on her knee and returned it to his lap. He cocked his head to the side and her eyes followed him slightly letting him know he had her attention.

"Yours are pretty, too, I suppose." His smile grew impishly, hoping almost violently that she would realise he was joking.

She didn't say anything, didn't smile but something thawed in her eyes, the desperate, almost hysterical edge flitted away. She relaxed. Minutely, but it was a triumph nonetheless. Tony managed to curb his urge for a victory dance and settled for his extra special, only-for-those-really-great-moments, genuine smile.

Emma would have felt honoured if she'd known she was the recipient of something so rare. Instead she just gripped one of her giraffe's legs.

Tony continued to talk, spewing forth nothing in an attempt to alleviate the silence which shrouded the girl. "Me? I have annoying eyes. They're neither blue nor green, exactly, sort of hazely yet not. They're just not a set colour." He spoke loquaciously on the woe that was his eye colour, feeling Emma relax more and more, probably listening more to the sound of his voice than the words; it was what he had done as a child. But every so often he would catch a hint of a spark in her eyes and he named them her inner giggles. He had decided she was a giggler two minutes into his diatribe.

He finally paused with a sigh and glared at the browning mush that was supposed to be a banana.

His nose wrinkled.

"Eugh."

He poked at the offending piece of food, and that was using the term loosely. Bits of mush clung to his fingers which he flicked and rubbed against his jacket in an attempt to clean them.

"They want you to eat _that._ You poor deprived child." Having a better idea he reached into his inside coat pocket, "I know what you need," He slipped a bar of chocolate from the pocket and jiggled it in both hands beaming at her with his 'ta-da' smile.

She just stared at him but he could feel how not impressed she was.

"No?" he started to slowly open the foil and took a deep chocolaty breath of air. Humming a little at the deliciousness he could tell when Emma perked up just a little. No one was impervious to chocolate. They may fight but they always lose.

Six year olds who had just lost their mother were no different, really, he reflected sadly.

"Then that's more for me and..." He frowned. "If me and the giraffe are going to be friends I need to call him something." He gave Emma a questioning glance but hurried on, "Okay, let's see," He hummed and hawed, resting his chin in his hand stroking at it and then his arm jumped up straight, one finger pointed skywards. "I'm going to call him Frank. He has this sort of suave coolness to him that reminds me of someone, I think."

He nibbled at the chocolate bar very aware of Emma's gaze, tinges of hunger underlying it. He turned his attention to Frank the Giraffe. "Hello, Frank, would you like some chocolate?"

Frank stared back, unblinkingly.

Tony leaned forward bringing his ear closer to the giraffe, "Was that a yes?" He lifted the chocolate bar up to Frank's mouth and marbled a few chewing noises, "I think that was a yes." He said, his attention on Emma again who was watching him now avidly.

"My turn again." He began to move the bar away when a small hand snaked out from under the red blanket, bumping his wrist and clasping around the chocolate.

Her eyes were on him, though, not the bar of chocolate and he gazed back, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Her lips quirked into a small, tiny smile.

It almost wasn't there but Tony could see it clear as day and he felt like comparing it to the sunrise or something equally incredible, like they do in the movies.

He didn't. This was better.

Emma's smile grew as the chocolate bar slipped easily out of Tony's grasp. She brought it up to her mouth and took a great, big chomp.

Tony had never felt so proud in his life.

They stared at each other in silence as Emma devoured the chocolate bar, one smiling giddily, the other gazing thoughtfully. Tony couldn't remember a time when he had smiled so genuinely for so long. He thought about telling Emma to slow down in her eating but he didn't think it would be appreciated, so kept quiet.

Soon the chocolate was gone, apart from a smudge on her chin. There was more colour in Emma's face, her cheeks now had a pinkish tinge and her lips were rosy red. She no longer looked on that side of dead.

Tony's legs started to cramp, he had been crouching too long, and he shifted uncomfortably. Emma noticed and grabbed at his wrist, pulling gently in an attempt to make him stand. He thought she was going to force him to leave for a moment and he felt a sudden surge of loss before she let go and patted the ambulance floor next to her. His relief almost sent him to his knees and he cursed himself for getting attached so quickly.

He was Anthony DiNozzo. He did not like kids. They did not like him.

_Shut up,_ he told himself and sat down next to her. Immediately she curled into his side and he automatically lifted his arm around her pulling her closer. Frank dug softly onto his ribs just below the heavier weight of her head. His hand slowly rubbed up and down her blanketed arm.

She sighed, content for this small moment in time.

And, again, Tony didn't quite know what to say. He realised with a sudden flash that he didn't want to ever let go. That terrified him. Yet, it also made him ridiculously happy. It was all very confusing.

He decided to talk some more because she didn't look like she really wanted to move and he had plenty of time before Kate and McGee were finished with the rest of the house. The fact that he had apparently gotten the better part of this deal didn't give him any delight _at all_.

He talked about everything: why he liked giraffes; what eucalyptus leaves were good for; his bad experience with koala bears; the first time he went surfing; why he looked good in Hawaiian shirts but not shorts; Magnum; his film collection – the list went on. And even though Tony didn't think it was possible Emma relaxed even further against him. She slept exhaustedly for maybe twenty minutes in the middle somewhere but he continued on regardless, knowing his voice was helping to calm her and keep the nightmares at bay. As he talked, he thought about the soothing words that had comforted him through the worst nights of his childhood.

Throughout his slew of meaningless topics he continuously kept Frank the Giraffe included in the conversation and again he turned to the stuffed toy about to suggest moving elsewhere. Perhaps the ambulance crew would like to move on now that he was taking care of her and if Frank agreed then he thought Emma would as well.

"So, Frank..."

"Jip." A soft quiet voice interrupted him.

Tony froze.

For the last hour or so no one apart from him had spoken.

He looked down at Emma in slight wonder.

"Um," he attempted.

Emma stared at him with her bright, wide green eyes sparkling innocently.

Somewhere amidst all the thoughts screaming 'she spoke! She _spoke!_' and other variants thereof, he realised that this little tyke had quite the sense of humour - his sense of humour, to be exact. That same part of his mind also decided that he really ought to teach her poker.

"What?" At length he managed, cleverly.

Emma smiled, obviously only just managing to keep in her giggles. Tony glowered and her smile only grew. "His name is Jip." She replied in the same soft quiet voice, holding the giraffe up to his eye level.

Without thought he took 'Jip' – Tony was sure he would always be Frank to him – and held him tightly seeking comfort from the fact that he had effectively been played by a six year old, she had waited for just the right moment for him to be most shocked when she finally spoke. He wondered how long it had been since she had decided she was going to speak to him. Emma tugged on the toy, trying to get him back and actually did giggle when Tony only held on tighter.

It was a wonderful sound. It was possible he would do anything to hear it again and he didn't quite understand that.

"You talk." He managed again and turned to 'Jip' loosening his grip on the stuffed animal so he could see it. "Frank, she talks." And again she giggled, quieter this time but it still made his heart do a little flip.

He looked down at her again and gave her his 'dazzle 'em' smile. She replied with one of her own.

He remembered a similar exchange that had happened so many years ago now and he pondered on, as he had done before, how kids were better at compartmentalizing their feelings than adults were. Things, like losing a parent so horribly, affected them more deeply but you wouldn't see it at all, eventually.

His smile softened and he smoothed his hand through her hair. She leant into the touch.

"You can take the reins now. I'll need a drink if you want me to talk anymore," he leaned down whispering the next part in her ear, "and don't tell my friends that or I'll die of thirst."

She puffed out a laugh and nodded her promise.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her silence. She mimicked him half-mockingly and he flicked her gently on the nose in retribution, which garnered some more beautiful giggles.

"We're going to have to work on this whole talking thing," he said mock-sternly.

The smile that followed lit up her entire face and it took Tony a few moments to understand why he had gotten such reaction, and a wonderful one at that. Then he realised that he had implied that they would be spending more time together and he almost admitted to himself that her joy at that prospect warmed his insides into a little gooey puddle. Almost, but he was guy after all, so he was just sort of touched.

Suddenly he stood up, still holding onto 'Jip' and asked Emma, with a smile (and he had a feeling he was going to be doing that a lot), "You wanna blow this popsicle stand?"

--

With a sigh Gibbs came out of the house. He yanked off his cap and ran his hands aggressively through his hair. That coppery tang clung to every breath he took and it just made him angrier. He hated people, he really did.

Todd walked past him, followed quickly by McGee both carrying boxes full of evidence and handed them to some forensic techs who were close by.

"Tony's coming back, Boss." McGee's whisper stopped them all from entering the house again and Gibbs turned.

He felt a surge of pride as he watched Tony walk towards them with Emma Laney in his arms, clinging to him tightly, and the stuffed giraffe squeezed in between them. His agent's focus was not on them at all, talking as he was to the enraptured six-year-old.

Tony's attention turned them quickly, though. "Hey, guys."

He bounced the girl lightly up and down. "This is Emma. Emma this is the team."

Emma looked at them all shyly and tightened her arms around Tony's neck. Gibbs bit back a smile at the way the girl hung onto him like a limpet. Tony had been right, of course, usually he and kids didn't really gel. Emma Laney was obviously a very special little girl. He didn't think it was all to do with what today was for Tony, although it probably played a part.

Tony's eyes skimmed over them before landing back on Emma. He spoke softly but still loud enough for them all to hear. "I know they look strange and scary," he paused just for a second at Kate's low growl, "but, I promise, they're our friends, yeah?"

Her head turned as she surveyed them each in turn, as if judging them by Tony's words.

The breath slammed from his body when her eyes came to rest on him, momentarily taken aback by how much she looked like Kelly. Then she blinked and her eyes were green not blue and she was just Emma Laney again. Gibbs saw her in every child and that ache in his heart or soul or whatever you wanted to call it would never ease but he could push it to the side like he did now.

He remembered how to breathe again as Emma nodded shakily, accepting them.

Tony smiled and Gibbs had never seen that smile before. It was soft and gentle and real. And all for that child in his arms. He hoped this didn't end badly.

He turned to Gibbs, "That is Special Agent Gibbs."

He lowered his head and spoke quietly, talking only to her and Emma immediately straightened, turned to Gibbs and snapped off a quick, respectful salute. "Gunny!"

Gibbs nodded his head in acknowledgment with a smile, chuckling. "It's nice to meet you too, Miss Laney." He patted her on the head pulling a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "But there's no need to call me Gunny."

Emma relaxed again and leaned her head on Tony's shoulder. "All right, Mr. Gibbs."

Gibbs hid his smile at Tony's amused snort but decided not to argue with the girl.

Tony nodded towards Kate, "You've already met Special Agent Caitlin Todd."

He dipped his head, once more speaking quietly for Emma only and she began to giggle. Her head swivelled towards Kate and she was smiling wickedly. For a second she looked so much like Tony it was scary.

"Hello, Katie." She waved cheekily, bobbing her fingers up and down.

Kate's eyebrows arched dangerously and Gibbs knew Tony was going to pay for whatever it was he had said to Emma and from Tony's rueful wince he knew it too.

He moved on to the last of their motley crew, nodding at McGee, "Special Agent Timothy McGee."

Tony whispered to her again and her answering smile was softer this time, sweet. She patted Tony on the cheek twice, lightly and turned to McGee. She tilted her head to the side and her eyebrows furrowed as she gave him a measuring look. Finally she leaned her head back into Tony's neck, whispered something to him that made him grin and turned a lazy smile in McGee's direction.

"Hey, Probie."

McGee frowned in confusion at the response, already curious as to what had been said. From Tony's answering grin Gibbs knew it was the reaction he had been hoping for. Maybe he shouldn't be so relieved that Tony and the girl had bonded. They were too alike.

It was going to be interesting to say the least.

However, this wasn't the place for a child and seeing as it didn't look like Emma was going to let go of Tony anytime soon wherever Emma went so did Tony. He also couldn't drive like that. Someone would have to drive them back to the Navy Yard.

"Okay, Todd, McGee. Finish up inside then head back. DiNozzo, Miss Laney, with me."

He made his way to the car, half-listening to the conversation behind him.

"What's your name?" the soft, quiet voice asked.

Tony puffed out something resembling a laugh. "I haven't told you?"

There was a pause where Gibbs presumed Emma was shaking her head because it was followed by, "The name's Anthony DiNozzo, but my friends call me Tony."

"Tony?

"Tony."

"That's nice."

Gibbs smiled at the exchange. If he were anybody else he would think it cute.

"When we get back I'll introduce you to Abby. You'll like Abby. She's..."

Oh yes, this was going to be interesting.

--


	3. Chapter III

_**A/N: **Hello. I'm really sorry about the major delay in updating. RL reared it's ugly head in more ways than one. I started College and the transition threw me and there was a family emergency and a bunch a personal stuff, so I am very sorry and I'm going to try my best for there to be no more than a week between updates. I also must thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I'm amazed you all like it so much and it's heartening to receive so many compliments. _

_THANK YOU!!_

_showers you all in chocolate cookies_

--

_**Chapter III**_

--

Tony didn't realise it until about fifteen minutes after entering the lab: he was being ignored. It surprised him because, usually, he was pretty good at telling when people weren't paying attention to him, the spotlight being his favourite place to be on the most part. They'd had the obligatory tour of Abby's domain, the meeting of her babies. Emma seemed as enthralled with the machines as the resident forensics expert, even as she slumped against him in what he was pretty sure was exhaustion. Being kept up all night by the sounds of your mother dying usually left you tired, the thought scoured through his head. He shrugged it off.

Abby had toned down her usual hyperness a notch and Emma hadn't needed any gentle prodding to speak to her. Emma was full of questions about everything she saw and as per normal Abby had an answer for everything. Tony had known these two would get on like a house on fire.

It wasn't until he called 'Jip' Frank, though, and there had been no scolding squeak that he noticed Emma's eyes were completely glued to Abby. Well, to Abby's neck and the spider web engraved upon it.

"You are not getting a tattoo." It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Abby shot a confused look at Emma and turned her attention to Tony. "It's a bit late, Tony."

"Not you. Emma."

Her gaze was a mixture of petulance and _why would I want one anyway, I'm six years old_. She voiced a quiet "Why not?" that was just as much plain curiosity as it was a whine and it made Tony pause. She hadn't yet sounded as close to a six year-old as she had there. It made everything seem a little lighter.

Abby chuckled, low and deep. "Sorry," she said unrepentantly.

He ignored her 'apology' and tried to think of a good reason against getting a tattoo that didn't make him sound too father-like, that was the very last thing he wanted to be, and settled on, "Because I said so."

Well, best laid plans...

Emma gave a small sigh that didn't sound _too_ sadwhich was probably good because his job here, in his view, was technically to help the traumatised not be so traumatised. Who gave him that job and why did they think it a good idea?

"Gibbs knows what he's doing." Abby said with a smirk and Tony scowled because he knew she knew he hated it when she did that telepathy thing. She was worse than Gibbs a lot of the time.

Though, he forgave her quickly as Emma bounced a little in his arms at the mention of Gibbs; another name on a long list of kids who automatically liked the gruff, closed off man. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and a yawn was cut off by the rough fabric of his jacket.

He nudged her temple gently with his chin, quietly asking, "sleepy?"

Out of the corner of his eye Abby was grinning like a loon and he put it to one side – he could figure out the why later – for now, Emma.

She frowned, annoyed, and she looked up at him with drooping eyelids. She opened them as far as she could with determination. "No," she whispered with a weary surety.

"Uh huh," he smiled. "It is ok to sleep, you know." He looked up to Abby and she nodded happily moving towards her desk and the futon mattress. "You can even sleep here."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she expected him to lie, but she didn't argue.

"But, I might not be here, in the lab, when you wake up," he had to mention this. He remembered his own reaction long ago too vividly not to. Emma tensed, her arms gripping around his neck a bit too tightly, he didn't mention it. "I'll just be upstairs, a quick phone call and I'll be here in a flash." If possible her hold on him strengthened and he winced minutely. "Abby'll be here, though, watching over you." It came out more of a question than he wanted but he didn't know what would help her relax. He felt like he was walking around in the dark and he just happened to be blind.

It appeared to have been the right thing, though. She quickly relaxed against him once more, muttering as her eyes slipped closed and stayed so, "'Kay. Like Abby."

He nodded, "How can you _not_ like Abby?"

It was supposed to be rhetorical but it got an answer nonetheless, "S'impossible."

Abby was suddenly crowding them in a three way hug, her hand brushing through Emma's locks, "Thanks, Sweetie."

She was already asleep.

Tony kneeled slowly on the futon, Abby's hand on his shoulder keeping him balanced when he would have tipped sideways. As he laid Emma on the mattress, making sure her head rested comfortably on the pillow, Jip fell, rolling onto the floor and she squirmed subconsciously reaching out for the stuffed giraffe. She didn't wake but she also didn't still until Abby pushed him back into her arms, crushing him into her chest. Tony frowned as he watched her sleep, his hand ghosting down her arm as she shivered. He slipped out of his jacket and dropped it over her, tucked it around her. It flooded her, the NCIS letters curling gigantic around her, making her seem tiny.

He watched her a moment longer than was needed, long enough to notice Abby staring at him, her carefree smile slipping. Now that Emma was asleep she could let her concern show.

He stood up, walking over to the table, usually adorned by evidence, at the moment disturbingly empty. He waved at it, "Kate and McGee should have something for you soon." There was a strange lump in his throat and the words came out more choked than they should ever have. If he was alone he would head slap himself.

Before he knew it she was there in front of him. "Are you..." She began whispering in an attempt not to wake Emma.

"Don't whisper, talk normally." Tony cut her off and at her questioning look he explained but he didn't really want to say any more, "It'll help her sleep."

She looked confused for a millisecond before acceptance stepped in and she just moved on. That was one of the things, many things, he loved about Abby. She trusted you to know what you were doing, knew when to not ask questions and to move on to the next topic.

"Are you all right?" She asked again normally.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He tried for honest befuddlement – why he would be anything other than all right – but he already knew that wouldn't work with Abby and he didn't know why he even tried. It was a reflexive reaction to anyone wondering what lay beneath the carefully constructed flashy-don't-have-a-care-in-the-world exterior, one which he had been trying to curb, especially around Abby. It was hard to stop something he'd been doing since he was kid.

Thankfully, and then not so thankfully, Abby could see through him like no one else, except perhaps Gibbs and even there it was too close to call.

Her hands found her hips and she stood there, pissed, giving off an air of 'I _so _believe that.' But a moment later her anger seemed to flee and she flung her arms around him and he could tell she seeking as much comfort as she was trying to give. He found himself almost pulling away, like he used to do – another old habit he thought he'd mostly gotten rid of – but he stopped himself because this was _Abby_. He forced his arms around her attempting to return the hug and she tightened her hold telling him that she knew exactly what was going through his head and was thankful anyway.

He wasn't sure he believed in a god but he thanked whoever was listening every day for bringing Abby into his life.

"God, Tony, just meeting Emma's bringing back all sorts of bad memories and it's not even my anniversary. I can't imagine what this must be doing to you." She whispered. He heard the waver in her voice and he wished this was one thing they didn't have in common.

"I'm fine, Abby."

"Bullshit. If you're fine then so am I."

He smiled sadly. "Yeah."

They stayed like that for a while longer until he felt himself nearing the fidgety stage and he pulled away. Abby's hold tightened for a moment and he didn't know if she was going to let him go, or if he wanted her to, before she finally freed him, dropping her arms and stepping back, taking all her warmth with her. He didn't remember the lab ever being so cold.

"When she wakes up I have to ask her about what happened." His voice sounded a little hoarse but they both ignored it. "Call me when she does."

"Yeah."

Abby's sigh followed him out of the lab.

--

Tony looked up from his computer as Gibbs stormed past; bad news in MTAC, then. He waited in silence as Gibbs gathered together his anger and stuffed it to the side, when he knew that his Boss wouldn't rip off his arm and beat him about the head with it if he made a noise he piped up.

"What's up?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment too long and tony knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

"The dad's AWOL." Terse, bitten out: not as bad as it could be but it implied too much. The hard, murderous edge only really appeared in Gibbs in cases with Father's who didn't treat their family's right. Tony never asked but he had done his own research on Gibbs before joining NCIS; joined some dots – it wasn't really something you brought up over normal conversation, not that he and Gibbs had ever had what could be construed as a normal conversation.

Tony felt something cold and brick-like form in his stomach.

His first thought was, _how do I explain this to Emma?_

Not, _what does this mean for the case?_

Not, _what did he get involved in?_

Not,_ how do we find him?_

_How do I explain this to Emma?_

"Crap." She might never get over it if her father caused her mother's death.

Gibbs shook his head as if he didn't want to believe it and Tony would believe that if the man didn't always jump on any possible suspects. Perhaps Emma wasn't getting to just him.

The fact that it might not be connected did occur to him, a quirk that meant nothing in the long run.

He wished but beneath the cold brick in his stomach something else writhed, whispering to him. If he had learned only one thing in his time with Gibbs it was not to ignore that intangible instinct.

"There are no coincidences," he mimicked to himself not realising Gibbs would hear him.

The more it sunk in – the father's the prime suspect – the more it felt like his heart was growing physically heavier and heavier.

_How do I explain this to Emma?_

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah."

--

As soon as he and Kate stepped out of the elevator, Tim could feel the tension emanating from Gibbs and Tony. Kate tensed beside him and they both slowed as they approached their desks as if putting off sitting down would make whatever it was not as bad as it obviously was.

Tim's first thought was that something was wrong with Emma. It made sense because Gibbs only got this angry when kids were involved and Tony was obviously already attached to the girl. What was surprising about the latter that Tim didn't find it surprising. He should though, because Tony was notoriously bad with kids, but he wasn't and he didn't really know why. He was pretty sure a lot of that was going around at the moment, especially with Tony himself.

He stopped briefly in front of Tony's desk, awkwardly holding out a denim blue backpack, decorated with a bright yellow smiley face with red horns sticking out of its head on the front and what he was pretty sure were meant to be hell hounds; the perfect bag for any six year-old girl...

Tony looked at him a little in confusion but accepted the bag nonetheless, turning it in his hands, smiling as he caught sight of the small tag that read, 'Property of one Emma Laney'.

"I, um, I brought some of Emma's," Tony's smile grew as her name was said and the thought that Tony was so screwed, flitted through his mind, "clothes, so she doesn't, uh, have to..."

Tony mercifully cut him off with a nod before he could embarrassingly trail off into the reasons she needed clean clothes. He watched as Tony almost reverently set the bag on his desk and opened the zip to see what was inside. He rifled gently through the clothes and, hopefully satisfied, zipped it back up. Tim hadn't really known what to put in and had spent more time than was probably necessary trying to pick out what he thought she would like best.

"Thanks, probie," he said quietly and plopped the bag next to his own. "She'll appreciate it."

Tim's eyed flickered towards Gibbs and there was none of his usual anger at the obvious signs of his team getting attached to a witness. There _was_ anger there; evident in the tense hunch of his shoulders, but as he could see none of it was directed at Tony. From the very little he'd seen Gibbs was almost encouraging the growing bond and Tim wasn't sure that was a good thing. He'd had, admittedly, very little experience kids but he knew they were easy to get attached to and you always had to let them go in the end. It wasn't like if you got attached to an adult witness, where you could get their number, maybe stay friends after the case was closed. It was very likely Tony would never see Emma again after they caught the killer. He sat down and Tony was still smiling gently and Tim wished for a happier ending.

"What's wrong?" Kate's voice tore through the happy-ish mood and Tony's anger returned full force, Gibbs' multiplying.

"Staff Sergeant Laney is AWOL," Gibbs finally ground out.

Kate's face turned stony and he knew they all thought this meant he was involved. He didn't want to automatically assume the worst. He didn't want to become stereotypically cynical about the world. He wanted to keep that little innocent spark he knew he had. Sometimes, he wanted to keep it so much it hurt.

"It might not be connected," he offered weakly, knowing already they had cast their judgements, knowing that alone they were each right a lot of the time; together, how could they be wrong?

Tony shot him a look, a half-glare, half-_think, Probie_. It was the look Tony always gave him when he thought Tim wasn't listening to his gut. He paused and tried to feel more than think, it was hard for him. Something churned, though. It wasn't physical, but it still churned and whispered to him silently. This whole situation was wrong but it felt worse the more he thought about the Staff Sergeant. He made that something churn horribly.

"It's connected," he said wearily, he wished it wasn't.

Sometimes he forgot he was learning almost as much from Tony as he was from Gibbs.

A phone rang, cutting into the anger. It took them a long moment to realise it was Tony's and a moment longer before he answered it.

"DiNozzo." Curt and to the point; everyday Tony got just that bit more like Gibbs.

If it was possible Tony tensed further, a look of dread clinching into place. "Hey, Abs," his tone and who he was talking to contrasted harshly. "She awake?"

Tony looked towards Gibbs and jerked his head towards the other elevator, questioning.

To his right Gibbs nodded just in sight but Tim was still watching Tony and his grim features.

"I'll be right down, Abby."

It wasn't until Tony left that Tim finally asked, "Where's he going?"

Gibbs glared at him for what felt like an eternity and he gulped, wishing, like he had so many times before, he'd never asked to begin with. Then it was like a switch flipped and all the anger bled out of the room and only a tired limpness was left.

"To question the witness."

He met Kate's gaze and he could see the same pity there that he was pretty certain was plastered on his own face. Though he knew Kate, unlike him, felt it more for the girl than for Tony – how could the immature frat-boy do it with sensitivity, he'd probably make it worse.

He'd cottoned on pretty quickly that if everything Kate believed, or broadcasted she believed, about Tony was true Gibbs would never have hired him.

Tim didn't know which of the two the 'questioning' would hurt more but he did know who was more likely to remember it, in detail, for the rest of their lives.

--

"Don't remember."

She looked down at him as he crouched in front of the chair she sat on, a mirror of their first meeting. A spark of fear flew through her eyes and he couldn't quite place where it had come from.

"You don't remember." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice but she tensed and he knew she'd heard it.

"No." She choked out the words, tears welling in her eyes but she still kept them at bay. She looked at him warily though he doubted she could see him clearly, he was probably a drowning blurry mess. He hadn't meant to imply that he wouldn't like her anymore if she got the answers 'wrong'.

"It's ok. It's all right; lots of people don't remember these sorts of things." He kept his tone light but she still looked at him like he was about to mutate into some monster and eat her or maybe he already had in her eyes. "I promise, it's ok. I just needed to ask."

She watched him silently and it felt like he'd gotten halfway to the top of the highest mountain only to fall painfully back to the bottom. Suddenly he felt more nervous than he even had this morning. His hands began to shake so he clenched them hard, pressing his fists into the floor, he could barely keep his breathing under control and his stomach rolled sickeningly. Was this it? Was she never going to speak to him again? He'd blown it and it felt like the world was ending and he wasn't being melodramatic. He didn't know what he would do if this little girl never trusted him again.

"I'm sorry," he managed. "I never- I didn't- this wasn't- " The words wouldn't come and his panic only grew until he noticed her confusion change to understanding and relief and suddenly she was out of the chair flinging herself at him. He caught her but the force made him tumble backwards and he met the floor with a thud but he kept hold of her, squeezing tight and she clung back harder. Relief so acute crashed into him that he was glad he was already on the ground and it just added to his confusion. He had no idea what was going on. He didn't understand where this almost breakdown between and of the both of them had come from but he was glad it left as quickly as it came and so was Emma. After that display he had no doubt.

He looked up at the door and saw Abby watching. He turned away before he could decipher her expression, what she thought. He was surprised to find he didn't care.

All he cared about was the little girl in his arms. That terrified him, but in a non-panicky, made-him-sort-of-happy, good way.

He was now more confused than ever.

--


End file.
